「Provincial City, an old residential neighborhood.」

Xu Xianlun was sitting on a rattan chair on his balcony, performing his "daily task."

He took off his shoes and socks, his expression focused. He meticulously and tirelessly rubbed the center of his right sole with the palm of his left hand.

"Three hundred fifty-eight, three hundred fifty-nine, three hundred sixty!"

As he finished the final repetition, he let out a long sigh. Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead.

Then he switched hands and began using his right hand to rub the center of his left sole.

This was the seventh day.

Ever since returning from the hospital that day, he had treated the young doctor’s words as a sacred edict.

Every day, he would unfailingly and strictly follow the instructions to complete the seemingly absurd "foot rubbing task."

Three hundred and sixty times—not one more, not one less.

After finishing the entire "task," he nervously lifted his feet to the light, examining them carefully from every angle.

The soles of his feet were smooth and clean. Aside from being slightly red from the constant friction, there wasn’t the slightest sign that any "malignant sores" were about to form.

PHEW—

Xu Xianlun let out a huge sigh of relief. A great weight had finally been lifted from his heart.

He felt as if he had just escaped a life-or-death ordeal, his entire being filled with the relief and joy of a survivor.

And to his even greater surprise,

during this time he was focused on his "sole-saving campaign," his eyes—once red, swollen, painful, and constantly tearing—had been getting better day by day, seemingly without him even noticing.

By today, he was delighted to discover that his eyes were no longer red or swollen, and they had stopped tearing up completely.

His vision was perfectly clear, just as it had been before he got sick.

"Incredible. Truly incredible."

Xu Xianlun paced back and forth in his room, his heart overflowing with gratitude for the young doctor.

Just to be safe, he decided to make another trip to the hospital tomorrow.

He wanted the experts to take another look and confirm that he was truly, completely cured.

...

That evening, Xu Xianlun went downstairs for a stroll in the neighborhood garden.

In the garden pavilion, a few of his old buddies were gathered, playing chess and chatting.

"Hey, Old Xu, you’re here!"

One of the chess players, a gray-haired man named Uncle Liu, looked up and asked with concern, "How are those eyes of yours? The last time I saw you, they were red as a rabbit’s. Did you go to the hospital?"

"I did. They’re all better now."

Xu Xianlun’s spirits immediately lifted at the question.

He eagerly leaned in and vividly recounted his "legendary experience" at the Provincial Hospital of Traditional Chinese Medicine to his old buddies.

He lavished praise on the hospital’s experts, describing how brilliant their medical skills were and how piercing their diagnostic eye was.

"...You guys have no idea. The experts there are on another level. With just one look, he could tell the root of my problem wasn’t in my eyes, but in my feet! He even predicted that a malignant sore would grow on my sole in seven days. If he hadn’t taught me a ’secret technique’ beforehand and told me to rub my soles every day, I’d probably be lying in a hospital bed right now. Now *that* is what you call ’treating an illness before it even starts’!"

He was incredibly animated as he spoke, his words dripping with admiration for the expert.

However, his words elicited a grunt of displeasure from Uncle Liu.

"Hmph! The experts at the Provincial Hospital of Traditional Chinese Medicine? If you ask me, their skills are nothing special!"

Uncle Liu huffed, slamming a chess piece down on the board.

"What’s wrong, Old Liu?"

The other old-timers looked over curiously. "What do you mean by that?"

Uncle Liu sighed and began to air his grievances.

"Don’t get me started! I’ve been suffering from insomnia, you see. I toss and turn all night and can’t fall asleep, then I’m dizzy and groggy all day. It’s torture. A while back, I also went to the Provincial Hospital of Traditional Chinese Medicine and booked an appointment with a specialist.

And what happened?

The expert examined me for ages, then just prescribed me a bunch of prepared Chinese medicine called ’Sour Jujube Seeds Soup’ and told me to go home and drink it.

I’ve been drinking it for almost half a month now, and it’s had absolutely no effect.

I’m still suffering from insomnia. You tell me, what kind of expert is that?"

Xu Xianlun was puzzled to hear this.

He asked, "Old Liu, which specialist did you see?"

"Who else? The most respected one at the Provincial Hospital of Traditional Chinese Medicine—Professor Gao Guanghui, of course!" Uncle Liu said irritably.

"Professor Gao?" Xu Xianlun was even more baffled. "That can’t be right! I saw Professor Gao, too, and the results were fantastic. How come it didn’t work for you?"

He carefully thought back to the scene in the consultation room that day.

"Oh, I remember now!" He slapped his thigh. "I may have booked an appointment with Professor Gao, but the one who actually treated me that day was a young man at his side. He’s really young, but his diagnostic skills are incredibly sharp. He’s the one who taught me that ’Foot Rubbing Secret Technique’!"

"I’ll tell you what, Old Liu," Xu Xianlun said enthusiastically. "I happen to be going back to the hospital for a follow-up tomorrow. Stop worrying about it on your own and just come with me. We’ll have that young Divine Physician take a look at you, too."

Uncle Liu had already lost faith in the Provincial Hospital of Traditional Chinese Medicine and had no intention of going back.

But his insomnia had been truly unbearable lately. Between his suffering, Xu Xianlun’s personal testimony, and his insistent invitation, a glimmer of hope was rekindled in his heart.

"Well... all right, then!" he agreed. "I’ll give them one more chance!"

...

「The next day. Professor Gao Guanghui’s specialist consultation room at the Provincial Hospital of Traditional Chinese Medicine.」

Xu Xianlun and Uncle Liu had gotten consecutive appointments and walked into the consultation room together.

"Professor Gao, Doctor Li, I’m back!"

Xu Xianlun called out cheerfully as soon as he entered.

He explained his situation in detail.

Professor Gao personally took his pulse and carefully examined his eyes, a smile spreading across his face.

"You’re better. All better," Professor Gao said admiringly. "Your pulse is stable, the liver fire has been cleared, and the signs of deficiency are much improved. Ah, Li Xu, your use of this ’Psychological Therapy’ is truly masterful!"

Li Xu also examined him. After confirming he had recovered well, he smiled and said, "Mr. Xu, from now on, you need to relax. Don’t focus so much on your eyes. The more you stress over them, the more likely you are to have problems. Go out for more walks, join some group activities—it’s more effective than any medicine."

"Yes, I’ll remember. Thank you, Doctor Li."

Showering them with thanks, Xu Xianlun stepped aside.

Next, it was Uncle Liu’s turn.

As soon as he sat down, he began to complain to Professor Gao.

"Professor Gao, I don’t mean to sound rude, but that Sour Jujube Seeds Soup you prescribed me last time? I took it exactly as directed for half a month, and my insomnia hasn’t improved one bit. What’s going on with that?"

Professor Gao was taken aback by this.

He once again conducted a detailed diagnosis for Uncle Liu.

’The pulse is a classic wiry and thready pulse, a typical sign of liver blood deficiency and a malnourished heart-spirit.’

’The tongue is pale red with a thin, white coating.’

’The symptoms are also irritability, insomnia, dizziness, and tinnitus.’